The Hobgoblins
by Kittenn1011
Summary: The Marauders are somewhere they really shouldn't be.


I know I'm supposed to be working on the next chapter of _Time Warp_, but this idea got stuck in my head and wouldn't go away from the time I was about halfway through the chapter. I was scanning through the original train scene and saw this and though "Hmm…" This is the result.

* * *

**The Hobgoblins**

_The Marauders are somewhere they really shouldn't be._

* * *

"What are you kids doing?"

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter jumped at the sudden voice.

"I told you we'd be caught," Remus whispered quickly. "This was a stupid idea." Peter nodded his agreement.

"Shut up," James whispered back. "We can make something up."

"Well?" the voice questioned and the four turned around to see a security guard with crossed arms.

The original plan had been to sneak into the back of the annual amateur music show to meet Peter's idol, the host, and lead drummer in _Spellbound_. Remus wasn't fond of the idea, but when the Marauders bet, they bet favours instead of money. Peter had bet that they would get caught turning the Slytherins robes into Gryffindor colours in the dead of night despite Sirius and James's strong beliefs that their plan was foolproof… and this was the penalty.

They managed to get by initial security under James's invisibility cloak but they were getting much to big to walk around under it comfortably. Having discarded it into James's bag, it should have been inevitable that somebody would catch them. Remus knew, but he knew his voice of reason wouldn't count for anything.

"If you're not preformers, I'm going to escort you out." The Marauders weren't ready to give up that quickly.

"We're…" Sirius spoke uncomforably. "We're the…" he paused, his eyes quickly darting around for an idea.

"The Hobgoblins," Remus jumped in, making a name up on the spot.

The security guard scanned the clipboard in his hands before replying, "You're not on the list."

"We're a late submission," James explained casually. "We wouldn't be on the list. We were _actually _looking for somebody who could check to make sure we were on the line-up…" He gave a convincing, confident smile.

"You don't have pases," said the guard.

"Yeah, that's another problem," Sirius sighed. "We had to sneak passed security… actually, we were hoping that when we checked to make sure we were on the list we could get our passes."

"I'll lead you to the director."

They trailed behind the wizard and James whispered, "Hobgoblins?"

"Hobgoblin: something troubling; a source of fear or worry," Remus defined. "I thought it a decent alternative to _Marauders_."

Sirius smiled. "I like it. Can we have stage names, too, Moony?"

Remus groaned. "You are going to have way too much fun with this."

"We can totally win this thing if they actually put us in—"

"But we're here for—"

"— nobody who plays in this thing has any actual talent anyways—"

"This will never work."

"—I can sing and you guys all play instruments—"

"We've never played _together_ or _on stage_."

"— we're good at winging it—"

"That's it," the werewolf groaned to Peter. "This train has officially derailed."

Peter shrugged. "Like that's anything new."

"— this is going to be so cool!"

"Are you done now, Padfoot?"

Sirius nodded.

They had reached their destination and explained their lie to the director, who immediately squeezed in the _Hobgoblins_. "What're yer names, lads?" he asked them.

"Stubby," Sirius said with ease. "I'm Stubby Boardman, lead singer. This is Eddy Glass," he gestured to James, "guitarist, Reggie Wolfe," he gestured to Remus, "bass guitar and sometimes pianist, and Jamison Book, drums," he gestured to Peter.

"I got yer names down, then, lads. Jus' wait fer yer band to be called."

They all let out a sigh of relief as they turned and walked into the next room, where the bands were all waiting, huddled in groups.

"We are so lucky that they supply the instruments to speed things up," James said.

Remus looked at him if he were crazy. "Prongs, we're lucky they're so disorganized. This should have _not _worked."

"We're also very lucky that Padfoot is so good at making names up on the spot," Sirius declared. He received a high-five and two dry looks.

"You just said the first things that came to your head, _Stubby_. But I don't actually play bass!" Remus hissed. "You know that!"

"What kind of band doesn't have a bass, though," Sirius replied. "You can use the keyboard. They have one up there."

"But _what_ are we going to play?"

"Chill, Moony," Sirius laughed. "You're always such a stick in the mud. Prongs and Wormtail are in with me, right?"

The two nodded, James more enthusiastically than Peter.

"_Jamison_ can give us a beat, it can't be that hard." Peter gave a nod. "_Eddy_ can get his guitar to go with that and wing a solo—"

James shrugged. "Can't be that hard. I can use something I've been working on."

Remus sighed. "If you just tell me what that would sound like, about, I guess I could work something from the keyboard."

"And I can just make something up," Sirius finished.

"Do you think you can do that?"

"I wouldn't be the first ever." He gave an arrogant smirk. "I'll come up with something."

* * *

_SIRIUS - BLACK AS HE'S PAINTED?_

_Notorious mass murderer or innocent singing sensation?_

_For fourteen years Sirius Black has been believed guilty of the mass murder of twelve innocent Muggles and one wizard. Black's audacious escape from Azkaban two years ago has led to the widest manhunt ever conducted by the Ministry of Magic. None of us has ever questioned that he deserves to be recaptured and handed back to the Dementors._

_BUT DOES HE?_

_Startling new evidence has recently come to light that Sirius Black may not have committed the crimes for which he was sent to Azkaban. In fact, says Doris Purkiss, of 18 Acanthia Way, Little Norton, Black may not even have been present at the killings._

_"What people don't realize is that Sirius Black is a false name," says Mrs. Purkiss. "The man people believe to be Sirius Black is actually Stubby Boardman, lead singer of popular singing group The Hobgoblins, who retired from public life after being struck on the ear by a turnip at a concert in Little Norton Church Hall nearly fifteen years ago. I recognized him the moment I saw his picture in the paper. Now, Stubby couldn't possibly have committed those crimes, because on the day in question he happened to be enjoying a romantic candlelit dinner with me. I have written to the Minister for Magic and am expecting him to give Stubby, alias - Sirius, a full pardon any day now."_

Almost twenty years later, Sirius couldn't help but laugh at the article that Kingsley had Arthur give him. They'd obviously thought that he'd think it's funny because it was so wrong, but it was funny because it hit so very close to the truth.

He still clearly remembered his brief time as Stubby Boardman. At sixteen, the Marauders formed the Hobgoblins to get out of a jam and the little white lie took a life of its own.

Doris Purkiss had been one of the fans who couldn't seem to leave him alone, even after the band split up (not really much because of the turnip, but because in nineteen-eighty the whole group had much more important things to do). He'd asked Remus to take some polyjuice and give her one date in order to leave him alone because he didn't want to deal her himself.

Apparently, Remus carried through with the date. Sirius never knew. He never really thought to ask. He never really cared. At the time that he would've left for the date, Sirius would've only been under suspicion of selling out the Potters…

It was fun though.

And he'd have to show the article to his bass guitarist later.


End file.
